


want / need

by wbtrashking (fan_nerd)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Hank, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PWP, Post-good ending, Top Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 01:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fan_nerd/pseuds/wbtrashking
Summary: “I think that I would like to have you beg for me,” Connor says in that innocuous way of his, in the same way that he might report the weather or give a status update.Hank quite literally chokes on his spit. “What,” he coughs, “the fuck.”“I mean that in a sexual way, for clarification.”





	want / need

**Author's Note:**

> me: i'm not gonna get into the fucky android game, i swear i'm not  
> me, 2 weeks later: hank sexy
> 
> anyways, enjoy ♡

Connor does not ask for much.

Okay, not true. He asks for plenty of things, both when they’re on cases and when they’re not. He occasionally asks for fresh thirium to stay healthy, for case files and briefings, for random details about Hank’s life and about perpetrators. He rarely asks for things _just because_.

At home—and it has become a _home_ again, now that Connor lives with him—Connor’s personal requests are few and far between. Nonexistent, really.

That’s why it startles him so badly when the android makes one.

“I think that I would like to have you beg for me,” Connor says in that innocuous way of his, in the same way that he might report the weather or give a status update.

Hank quite literally chokes on his spit. “What,” he coughs, “ _the fuck_.”

“I mean that in a sexual way, for clarification.”

The police lieutenant gapes at the android with a long stretch of silence before furrowing his brow. “Seriously, what the fuck are you on about?”

Connor hums. The noise is more for Hank’s benefit than his own. He doesn’t have to breathe, after all. It’s a human affectation, something he’s learned to do to fill the empty space. It would make Hank proud, if he weren’t currently so bewildered.

“Although we have had sexual endeavors thirty-six times—” and _Jesus Christ_ , Hank sputters at that. They’ve only been together for five months. He’s getting too old for that kind of record. ”I have only been the penetrating partner on five occasions. I find your reactions fascinating when I put force into my words and my actions. This has led me to hypothesize that you appreciate it when I take charge. Therefore, I believe both of us would find it rewarding if I were to be more assertive in the bedroom.”

The lieutenant pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing in exasperation. “Okay, that was a lot of words. What you’re basically saying is that you like bein’ in charge.” Connor twitches a little bit, a small tell in his body language that the words entice him. Hank is getting better at recognizing the minute movements for what they are—thinly-veiled arousal. He pushes himself into the android’s space, lips pulling upwards into a smirk. “You wanna make this burly old man moan like a two-bit whore?”

Connor’s face betrays no emotion, but his LED cycles a couple times, never turning yellow, but threatening to at any moment. Hank knows he has the android’s number.

“Well, whatever. You wanna be on top, all you gotta do is ask.”

With that said, Connor brightens up like an oversized Labrador retriever, padding behind Hank and following him into the bedroom.

Thirty-six times in the span of a hundred and fifty days…they might as well make it thirty-seven.

Of all of Hank’s guilty pleasures, this one is certainly the most fun.

 

//

 

Connor is obsessed with just. _Touching_. He’s a grabby little asshole. Sometimes, Hank forgets.

He eases Hank out of his trousers first, long fingers skimming up Hank’s thighs. The older man shudders, watching Connor with narrowed blue eyes.

The android is focused. Intent. Though Connor could name every known chemical in the world, could tell the lieutenant exactly how many follicles are on his body, his hands move slowly over the fabric of Hank’s boxers, like he’s going to discover something new inside of them this time.

Then, Connor moves onto his favorite part of Hank—his middle. Between his solid, portly gut and his love handles, his skin is pinched and fondled until he’s flushed pink. Connor is ruthless in his teasing, swallowing down Hank’s grumbles with sharp teeth, rutting against his partner to make the policeman buck his hips.

Since Connor is an android primarily designed for crime scene investigations, he’s of an average size and length. He has no special modifications for ease of access or anything. He’s just got a pretty face, full of freckles and beauty marks, showcasing humiliatingly lovely dimples and a razor-sharp jawline. That means he has to move and grab lube, just like the average human, and he slathers the stuff all over his synthetic hands.

Connor jabs a finger in Hank’s ass just to watch him squirm, pushing his thighs further apart. “Feel good?”

He nods his head and grunts, so Connor presses on, pulling Hank’s dick into the tight circle of his fist and squeezing. Hank is still pretty soft and it _hurts_ , but it hurts so good. He’s startled when Connor grabs his hair—he’s never done that before, and certainly not without asking permission—getting lube through the stringy gray strands while Hank wheezes for breath.

“Would you like it if I put you in my lap?”

“Jesus _fuck_ , Connor,” Hank curses, shutting his eyes to keep from losing his mind. “You haven’t even finished fingering me yet.”

“Your erection has increased in size by ten percent. I suspect that this has to do from the variety of physical stimuli I’ve given you, as well as my proposal.”

“Oh my god, shut up. I said it was your night to do whatever you want, right? It’s fine.” Connor stares at him with those shiny wide brown eyes, pushing his lips out in a slight pout. Hank reaches up to grab the android’s jaw. “You said you wanted to take charge. Mess me up. _Do it._ ”

That’s all it takes. Connor makes a show of flaring his nostrils, fingering Hank open for another minute, maybe two, and then he slides his right arm under Hank’s back, lifting him with egregious ease.

He forgets, sometimes, that Connor really is a machine. He doesn’t sweat, his breathing is simulated. The power locked inside his body is monstrous.

Still, he’s sensitive. Even after all this time, he’s scared of screwing what they have up. His skin is starting to tint blue, thanks to some new update or installment or something. When he’d first gotten the upgrade, he’d explained to Hank that he’d wanted to blush like a human. Wanted to give Hank a visual cue that steam is pouring out of his ears, that he’s embarrassed, lost in passion.

“I know I’ve said it before,” Connor muses lowly, his voice close and deep, rumbling through Hank’s chest while they’re pressed this closely together, “but I love your body.”

“I should probably get back in shape,” Hank half-heartedly remarks, smirking as he nips at the android’s neck. “Bulk up.”

Dark eyes close briefly, running a simulation. Though Connor is fond of Hank’s broad shoulders, his small gut, and his thick, hairy thighs, he thinks that Hank being strong enough to lift him like a paperweight would be…enticing. “To be soft is to be human,” Connor eventually says, adjusting Hank in his lap and humming as their cocks accidently brush together.

“So you’re sayin’ you like me fat?” Hank’s tone is teasing, so Connor teases him back.

“I’m saying that I like you any way that you choose to be.”

“Fuckin’ sap.”

“You like that aspect of my personality protocol,” Connor says, cupping his hand around Hank’s squishy left pec and giving it a squeeze. “I’m about to lift you up. Tell me that you want that.”

Hank licks his lips. “I do.” Connor was right about one thing—the contrast of their body types is great. He’s thick and doughy, offsetting Connor’s bony and lithe design. He can barely breathe for how tightly his android is caging him in, all four of his limbs curled around Hank like vises.

Sweat beads on his temple, just thinking about Connor’s modest length entering him while the android does all the work, babbling praise and fucking Hank slowly, deeply.

Once he’s ready, he tells Connor.

Connor wastes no time sliding in. He doesn’t use a condom, so it’s just obscenely well-designed synthetic skin slapping against Hank’s saggy old ass, making him croon. Connor digs his fingers into Hank’s armpits, lifting him up again, chuckling as Hank’s dick dribbles pre-come, the pressure of his cock being trapped between their bodies finally getting to him.

“I’m going to pick up the pace,” Connor whispers, spreading Hank’s thighs apart and drinking in his guttural moan. “My current angle is not ideal for hitting your prostate.”

Hank thinks he might actually be drooling, clinging to Connor’s shoulders for dear life as he keeps moving. “Connor, _please_ ,” he begs, voice raspy and reedy, one deep thrust away from screaming his throat raw.

Hank’s body tenses up; he’s _tight_. It feels so good to Connor, his investigative sensors overloaded. It’s good, it’s great, and then it’s _gone_ , because Hank violently shudders and comes, heart pumping a mile a minute. Sodium, calcium, fructose, mucus—the compounds flood through Connor’s brain, but Hank’s pleasure and the obvious release of endorphins from his high are what hit the android the hardest.

When Connor pulls out, there’s no mess of his accord. There’s the squelch of lube leaking out of Hank’s ass, and the android has half a mind to lick Hank clean, just to make him get fussy, but he can see that Hank is wrung out, his face still ruddy from exertion.

Once Hank has been wiped down, Connor lies next to him, throwing one of his heavy arms over Hank’s middle, reaching up to poke at his partner’s chest. The lieutenant scoffs, unable to keep from smiling. “Lay off, you plastic asshole. You squeeze ‘em too hard.” When Connor’s hand strays towards Hank’s belly button, the cop moves it upwards and rests it on the upper portion of his abdomen, snuggling into the frankly unmovable planes of Connor’s body. “CyberLife didn’t design you with a whole lotta give there, did they?”

“No,” Connor muses quietly. “I could change my body modifications, if you like?”

“S’fine,” Hank mumbles, closing his eyes. “I don’t care.”

“May I do this again sometime?”

“Sure.”

“Tomorrow morning, perhaps?”

“Don’t push it, you insatiable horndog,” Hank snarls, blowing hair out of his face. “G’night, Con.”

“Good night, Lieutenant.”

“It’s Hank,” the cop says softly, holding Connor’s hand while he speaks. “We’ve slept together thirty-seven times already, for fuck’s sake. You can call me Hank whenever you want.”

“Good night, Hank,” Connor amends softly, pressing his lips to Hank’s shoulders before entering into stasis mode himself, becoming more and more like a human with every passing day, pouring all the energy he can muster into loving Hank, giving the older man what he needs.

And sometimes, because human relationships are strange and reciprocal, Connor even gets the things that he wants.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! ♡
> 
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